


Until the Day Starts

by Shadowling



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7051933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowling/pseuds/Shadowling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some short fluff about what Gon and Killua do when the other is still asleep in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. While Killua is asleep...

At twenty Killua is all lean muscle and lanky limbs. The awkwardness of his teen years linger in the oddly sharp angles of his joints, the roundness of his face, but time promises to smooth those edges. It does not, however, even whisper the possibly of Killua being able to sleep without throwing half his body onto Gon in the night.

A year of this has made Gon an expert. He maneuvers his face away from Killua’s elbow and shifts over to get Killua’s knee out of his stomach but keeps their arms intertwined despite the awkward angle. His leg is in an expert hold by one of Killua’s legs. An experimental move has him soon dealing with an inescapable cage of two legs. He’s not going anywhere, but that’s fine for now.

Gon’s finger ghosts above Killua’s arm, not quite touching but feeling the ghost of body heat as he traces along a faint scar. Even with all the warmth trapped under the blanket, Killua still runs cold.

“Cold hands, warm heart,” Mito had told him once. He was more inclined to agree after meeting Killua.

Gon’s hands were always hot. Killua told him it was all that hot air in his head when he mentioned it and then slid his hand up Gon’s chest, making him even warmer than before.

Killua’s breath had ghosted across his lips. “Doesn’t seem cold to me.”

Gon’s hand moves to Killua’s bedhead. It’s not much different than his usual hairstyle, but it’s much more fun to run his fingers through his hair at this drowsy hour. It’s even better to twist those silvery strands around his finger, watch them curl softly against the pillow and expand the chaotic bedhead.

Killua’s hair covers some of his face. Ever so softly, as if a breeze, Gon brushes it behind Killua’s ear. His hand lingers, tracing the shape of his ear, his cheek, his jaw and the invisible stubble he finds there. It’s a picture he’s never tired of looking at, but the stillness brings extra appreciation.

Still, it only really has substance when he’s awake. When his ears are turning red in embarrassment or he’s rubbing his rough jaw against Gon in a surprise attack. When he’s poking him in the side out of boredom or smiling softly at Alluka, Leorio, Kurapika, Palm and doesn’t notice Gon looking.

So Gon pokes at Killua’s mouth, feels the huff of breath that escapes, and chuckles. He’s been getting better at not waking Killua when he sleeps, but he knows only the slightest touch can wake him.

(He himself is the same way. Not that Killua knows)

Killua’s eyes crack open, eyebrows furrow in annoyance at the disturbance. Gon watches the exact moment he realizes Gon won’t let him sleep, the gentle surrender of it, and smiles at his grumpy boyfriend.

“Morning,” Killua mutters.

Gon presses a quick kiss presses his nose before tackling him into a mess of blankets and sheets.


	2. While Gon is asleep...

At twenty Gon is over 50% muscle. He’s just barely scraping by average height, but he can lift a hundred times his own weight without using Nen, a feat which Killua is determined to surpass. He resembles his father, though Killua more often thinks Ging resembles Gon since Gon is clearly the better product. His expressions aren’t as guarded as Ging’s, his smile happier even with an equal weight to bare, and even now it seems like he makes people flock to him.

When he’s asleep it’s a different story. No matter what position he falls asleep in, Gon will eventually end up curled in on himself as if it protect himself, and he never moves once in that position. It’s a stark contrast to when he’s awake with energy and emotion tumbling through him like a storm, and Killua thinks the unmoving state is his body’s way of compensating for all that energy he has during the day.

It also doesn’t matter how much Killua flings his limbs at him during the night. Gon doesn’t move. There can be an elbow in his hip, a knee on his back, or a foot in his face, but he won’t move.

Killua thinks it’s seriously unfair since even the slightest shift of his weight wakes up Gon in the morning. He’s left with wherever he threw his hands during the night, playing with Gon’s hair on a good day and trying not to accidentally fondle him on a bad one, but at least Gon doesn’t wake up when he touches him.

The absolute best days, though, are like today: Gon curled against his side instead of away, breathing evenly on the exposed skin of Killua’s neck. Killua’s arm is trapped beneath the shorter boy’s head, numb from lack of bloodflow, but it leaves him the perfect angle to trace the muscles on his back.

Even relaxed, Killua can feel the definition of his back. It makes him a little bitter since it seems no matter how hard he works his body just remains slim, but it’s also fun to trace shapes and words into the broad planes of Gon’s back. Absently he traces an hourglass with his finger, the Hunter logo, an octopus, a smiley. Then a heart before he can talk himself out of it, scowling at his own sappyness.

Sometimes he thinks of suggesting Gon get a tattoo on his back. So much unblemished skin makes Killua’s stomach churn, as if the body should be able to display all the hardships of life whether physical or mental. Killlua has one on the only patch of skin scar-free, a fickle-looking cat he let Alluka and Nanika pick out in a brief moment of sentimentality that is permanently represented on his skin.

Gon thinks it’s funny. Killua’s feelings change depending on his mood, though Gon’s touch ghosting along it is always an instant mood-shifter.

He moves up to Gon’s neck, strokes the soft hair he finds there and traces Gon’s name. The tendons suddenly move under his touch, and he suddenly he is not the only one awake.

Familiar eyes peer up at Killua, and he tenses, ready for the explosion of action Gon usually greets him with.

Instead, Gon uncurls and shifts closer, throwing a haphazard arm across Killua’s stomach and resting his hand on the exposed skin he finds there. Killua grins and huddles closer.


End file.
